Rule Strange: Urban Legends That Don't Exist

Chapter 102 Klein Justus' Night: Cake and Boy (Extra Part [-])

Chen Yan watched the back of Klein Justus gradually disappearing into the wind and snow alley, and fell into deep thought.

-

Sergeant Cline Justus is off duty today.

After returning to the police station, he was uncharacteristically the first to enter the locker room and changed the police uniform into casual clothes.

It was a black leather robe with thick velvet, the velvet was goose down, and the leather was polished deerskin.

The dress was a 30th birthday present from his wife.

He had a big fight with his wife because the dress cost him two months' wages. He was not yet a sheriff at that time, and his daily salary was only 10p, so he could barely support his family.

At that time, his child was about to reach school age, and the elderly in the family fell ill due to last year's cold winter and had been bedridden for a whole year.

It is time to spend money.

He didn't sell the clothes later, firstly because the clothes were warm enough, and secondly because he was inexplicably promoted-the daily salary of the police chief was 10 pence more than that of the police.

This meant that, at the time, his salary for the next month was enough to cover the living expenses of the whole family.

Putting on a leather jacket, he looked even taller, and his broad shoulders naturally gave people a great sense of security.

The blond hair covered under the brim of the hat proves his identity - a native of the empire, a Luke who has lived on this land for generations.

After greeting his colleagues, Klein Justus left the street police station and walked to No. 8 Walker Street.

The first floor of No. 8 Walker Street is a cake shop that has been in business for decades. The owner is an elderly couple. The grandfather is in charge of making cakes, and the grandmother is in charge of selling cakes. Enough to feed a family and shop.

They are the first residents of Walker Street and have witnessed the rapid development of Yanan City for decades.

Klein Justus came to the door and rang the bell.

A moment later, with the sudden sound of the door opening, a gray-haired old man appeared behind the door.

"It's Little Klein! Please come in~"

Klein Justus was not used to such greetings, he squeezed a forced ugly smile on his face, then patted off the snowflakes on his body, and walked into the door.

Klein himself was not familiar with the old couple. It was only because the previous two generations of the Justus family only bought cakes here, so Klein himself got acquainted with the old couple who made the cakes.

The cake shop on the first floor of No. 8 Walker Street is warmly decorated. The ceiling is decorated with various ribbons. There are two tall firework pine trees on both sides of the entrance. There are two rows of flowers in the not so wide shop. Glass cabinets filled with all kinds of small cakes.

Made of processed cream and jam, these little cakes are so cheap and delicious that even the poorest working man can buy two for a penny.

The rich creamy fragrance floats into the streets of Walker Street along the gap of the cake shop's gate, and people passing by will always be attracted by this smell.

"The cake you ordered is ready."

The grandma, wearing a purple checkered apron and a blue linen headscarf, took out a packaged cake about 20 centimeters high from the workshop exuding a strong milky smell, and handed it to Klein.

Klein took the bread, nodded, smiled again, and said goodbye to the old couple.

The old grandma sent him out with a smile, and then sighed in a low voice: "Klein, this kid, didn't like to talk since he was a child..."

Klein went out, stepped into the wind and snow, glanced, and suddenly saw two children lying on the glass window on the outside wall of the cake shop.

They looked about ten years old, wearing tattered clothes that didn't fit their figures, and octagonal hats that didn't keep warm, with slugs hanging from their nostrils, staring straight at the window shrouded in the warm yellow light of kerosene lamps. small cake.

One of them didn't even wear shoes, his feet were already swollen from the cold, and the bright red was very dazzling against the backdrop of snowflakes.

Klein had seen such a child before.

When he patrolled Walker Street near the downtown area, he often saw such children. They were usually single parents.

Most of their peers were brought into factories by their fathers or mothers to do the same jobs as their parents.

Child laborers are paid 2 pence a day. Although it is insignificant compared to the 8 pence daily wages of ordinary workers, it is still money.

Kline used to deport such kids because they often stole things, which caused Walker Street to be close to parts of the downtown area, and the crime rate soared-this is the most intolerable thing for Kline-as the sheriff, the most intolerable matter.

But he has already shed that layer of dog skin today, and is no longer the Sheriff of Walker Street who has zero tolerance for crime, which means that he no longer needs to use force against such a child.

It made him feel better.

They were about the same age as his children, but his children could enjoy the heat and cakes, while they stood barefoot in the snow, drooling at the cakes in the window.

Why is this?

Is it because their parents don't work hard?

Klein didn't think so, the workers worked harder than anyone else to make a living.

He wanted to leave now, because he couldn't change anything, he was just a little sheriff, and there were hundreds of people like him in Yanan City.

He is insignificant.

He took two steps and looked at the cake in his hand.

He turned back and pushed open the door of the cake shop on the first floor of No. 8 Walker Street.

"Two more small ones."

He pointed to the cakes in the window.

The old woman looked into the window.

Even though her eyes were so kind, the two children were still scared away by the old man's gaze.

It's the children.

The old grandma felt sad for a moment, but it was only for a moment.

There are such children every day, but her cake shop can't send them cakes every day, the cost is too high, and she can't afford it.

"Take it, little Klein."

The old lady packed the cake and handed it to Klein.

He paid a penny, took the cake, went out, and came to the cake shop again, in the snow and ice of Walker Street.

On the side of the cake shop, two heads appeared in the dark alley between the houses. They were children who were still in shock.

He walked in the opposite direction to the children, and the two wrapped cakes slipped gently from his hands, as naturally as if they accidentally fell into the soft snow.

He didn't look back, just walked forward with his head down.

Leaving Walker Street and passing through a large intersection with few pedestrians, Klein entered the next block: Birmingham Street—this is the block where his home is located, adjacent to the Central Forest Park of Yanan City.

On the side of the street entrance on Birmingham Street, Klein squatted down under a huge pine tree, and lightly slammed the sewer mouth that was emitting a white smoke-like stench.

Slam regularly, three long and one short.

After the knock, a muffled sound came from the mouth of the sewer, which was sealed by pig iron bars.

"Klein, you came back early, the hunter and the violent spirit haven't left yet."

　Before I knew it, there were 100 chapters. I wrote all the way, and the time in the book has only passed three days. I also feel incredible...

　　This book is a daily article, and the plot is also developing according to the established track. Next, various people will be written, and they are the majority of the society.

　　History is made by the people, and so is this story.

　　I will try to limit each chapter to [-] words, so that if the writing is boring, it is convenient for the readers to quit at any time.

　　But sometimes in order to ensure the integrity of the story, some extra words have to be added, such as the next chapter...

　　Finally, I would like to thank everyone for your support, recommendation votes and rewards. This book has surprisingly poor grades, but I will write a complete story.

　　——2022.1.18 at 8:35 a.m., Binary Sword Fairy
　　
　
(End of this chapter)